crept into his heart for the girl towards whom so much bitterness was evinced. She was beautiful. He drew near to her.
"Can you not justify yourself?" he asked sadly.
For a moment Ah Oi gazed into his eyes— the only eyes that had looked with true kindness into hers for many a moon.
"You justify me," she replied with an upward, pleading glance.
Then Ke Leang, the bridegroom, spoke. He said: "The daughter of Hwuy Yen cared not to become my bride and has sought her happiness with another. Ah Oi, having a kind heart, helped her to that happiness, and tried to recompense me my loss by giving me herself. She has been unwise and indiscreet; but the good that is in her is more than the evil, and now that she is my wife, none shall say a word against her."
Ah Oi pulled at his sleeve.
"You give me credit for what I do not deserve," said she. "I had no kind feelings. I thought only of mischief, and I am not your wife. It is but a play like the play I shall act tomorrow."
"Hush!" bade Ke Leang. "You shall act no more. I will marry you again and take you to China."
